Weekend Visit
by nerak1138
Summary: Lister gets some unexpected visitors.
1. Chapter 1: Saddle Up

**Author's mumblings: **First of all, I apologize in advance for any incorrect spellings and whatnot. I'm just an American; I don't know any better. (Bettour?) **Additional note: **Made one small correction to wording to make it sound less American. (Thanks, Psychobikerjunkiewhore!)

Secondly, this story takes place one year after the events of "Parallel Universe", which would put it somewhere between Series III and IV.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Red Dwarf or any of its characters. And contrary to what the propaganda would have you believe, beans are neither musical nor a fruit.**

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Lister found Rimmer in their sleeping quarters, counting toenail clippings on the floor. "Hey, Rimmer."

"Why is there an odd number?" Rimmer asked. "Do you have extra toes?"

Lister ignored the comment. "I'm going down to the cinema. Do you want to come?"

"What's showing?"

"_The Sands of Iwo Jima_. The skutters are having their annual John Wayne Movie Fest," Lister grinned.

Rimmer's nostrils flared in disgust. "Why are you so happy? That's a terrible movie."

"Yeah, but it makes for a great drinking game. Do you know how many times he says 'saddle up' in that movie?"

"No. How many?"

Lister thought for a moment. "Dunno. Lots."

"No, I think I'll stay here and drill a hole into my head, thank you."

Lister shrugged. "Suit yourself."

He left and Rimmer studied the floor again, thoughtfully. "Maybe I've miscounted. One, two, three…"

Kryten came in wearing an apron with frills on it and carrying a broom and dust pan. "Hello, Mr. Rimmer, sir. Counting Lister's toenail collection, again?"

"Oh, God, you're right. What am I doing?" Rimmer shuddered.

"Oh, don't be alarmed, sir," Kryten tried to console him. "People have been known to do get a little strange when they're bored. Things haven't exactly been exciting around here, lately. I think the most interesting thing that happened this week was when the Cat mistook one of Mr. Lister's old socks for a space weevil and set fire to it. That smell sure lingers, doesn't it, sir?"

Rimmer sighed. "I've got to find something to do. I need a distraction."

"Well, you could watch me fold sheets. That would be pretty interesting, don't you think, sir?"

"No."

"But I haven't shown you the new technique I've developed."

"It's folding sheets, not smegging origami," Rimmer snapped.

"I beg to differ, sir," Kryten insisted. "Mr. Lister watched me fold towels a few days ago, and he seemed _very_ entertained."

"Lister is entertained by anything. I caught him flicking bits of snot on the wall again to see which color sticks best," Rimmer sighed. "In some ways I envy him. His life is so simple. He's never bored for more than five minutes before he forgets to be bored and practices belching show tunes."

"Oh, have you heard his rendition of 'Some Enchanted Evening'?" Kryten asked. "Why they never thought to include his version on the _South Pacific_ soundtrack, I'll never know. It's riveting."

Rimmer was about to throw a witty retort - nay, the _most_ witty retort ever uttered in existence - when the ship shuddered violently. There was an almost immediate aftershock, causing them to stagger around the room. When it was over, Rimmer yelled, "Holly? _Holly!_"

Holly's face appeared on the screen, her expression deadpan, as always. "I'm right here, you know. There's no need to yell."

"What happened?" Rimmer demanded.

"It was a shockwave," Holly said. "Another ship has appeared. It looks like another Red Dwarf."

"Another Red Dwarf?" Rimmer repeated.

"Hang on," Holly said. "I'm getting a transmission from them."

The screen glitched and another face appeared. It looked like two Hollys, only one of them had slightly shorter hair.

"What on Io?" Rimmer puzzled.

"Holly? Is that you?" The double asked.

"Oh, h-hello, Hilly," Holly stammered. There was a pregnant pause, and then Hilly and Holly began looking around at everything but each other.

At that moment, the Cat stomped in, fussing with his purple blazer almost as much as his hair.

"Cat, look!" Rimmer pointed at the screen. "Do you remember Hilly? From the parallel universe?"

"I don't care who it is," Cat sputtered in fury. "Hey! Why don't you learn how to drive? Look what you've done to my hair!"

Lister came in at that moment, wearing the lager he'd been trying to drink. "Hol, what the -" He stopped. The screen changed again, and Deb Lister appeared in Hilly and Holly's place. "Deb?"

"Sorry for the rough landing," She said. "Hilly figured out how to fix the Hilly Hop Drive so that we wouldn't age any faster when we jump to your world. Would you like to take the kids for the weekend?"

"Do wha-?" Lister stared at her dumbly. "Jim and Bexley? Uh, sure. I mean, this is a little sudden."

"I didn't exactly have a way to call you ahead of time, now did I?" Deb pointed out. "Get down to the shuttle bay. We'll be there in five minutes."

The screen clicked, and Holly reappeared, alone. Holly looked crushed. "Fixed the Hilly Hop Drive? Oh, this disappointing. It makes me look stupid."

"I'm gonna get to see me sons!" Lister cried. "This is great! I haven't seen them in a year, you know."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Lister," Kryten agreed. "I can't wait to meet them. Just think, three little Listers running around, making a mess that I get to clean up. It sounds wonderful!"

The Cat leaned over and whispered to Rimmer. "The suspended animation chamber is still working, right?"


	2. Chapter 2: The Arrival

**Disclaimer: I do not own Red Dwarf or any of its characters. I do, however, own a very nice candle that smells like hot chocolate, and I'd appreciate it if you stopped licking it.**

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Rimmer watched with disgust as Lister set his empty pint glass on the floor and wrung his shirt out over it. A bit of lager made it inside, more of it ended up on the floor. When he was finished, Lister picked up the pint glass and quaffed the dubious brew, making a satisfied _Ahhh_.

"C'mon, Rimmer," Lister said, setting the glass down. "Let's go get me kids."

Rimmer looked alarmed. "Uh, why don't I wait here and, uh, fix up the guest quarters?"

A knowing smile spread on Lister's face. "_Ohh_, I get it. You're afraid that Arlene might be there, eh?"

"Yes," Rimmer said. "And if she asks, tell her I'm dead."

Lister shrugged. "Cat? You gonna come?"

"And smell that Dog all over me for the rest of the day? No way," Cat scoffed. "I'm having enough trouble as it is trying to get my hair back in place."

"Looks like it's just you and me, Kryten," Lister said.

"I'd be delighted to welcome them on board, sir," Kryten said, taking the frilly apron off.

"Great," Lister perked up. "Let's go!"

_Starbug_'s door opened, and Deb Lister stepped out. She was soon followed by Arlene Rimmer.

"Hi," Deb said.

"Hi," Lister replied. "How are they?"

"They're good," She said slowly. "Very healthy. I'm sure they'll really enjoy staying with you."

"I can't wait to see them," Dave grinned.

"Uh, excuse me," Arlene butted in. "Where's Arnold?"

"He says he's dead," Lister told her.

"Oh," She said, turning to Deb. "Well, perhaps if you wouldn't mind waiting for a moment…"

Deb gave her a harsh look that clearly said _no_.

"So, where are they?" Lister asked.

Deb turned to _Starbug_ and motioned to someone inside. "Come on, boys. Come out."

Two sullen looking teenaged boys came out, carrying duffel bags.

"Hey, there's me boys!" Lister cheered, holding his arms wide. "Come 'ere and give your old man a hug, eh?"

Bexley rolled his eyes and Jim looked to Deb for guidance. She motioned them forward and they reluctantly stepped forward. Lister grabbed them both in a bear hug, oblivious to their discomfort. Kryten lifted a camera and snapped a photo of them.

"Well," Deb said loudly, looking at Arlene. "We best be going, eh?" Then she smiled sweetly at the Listers. "Be back in a few days. Have fun."

Jim and Bexley mumbled something incoherent. Arlene reluctantly followed Deb back into the ship and the door closed. Alone inside, Deb heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thank God!" She said. "I never thought I'd get rid of them."

Arlene looked puzzled. "You are coming back to get them, right?"

"Rimmer, don't be such a smeghead," Deb snapped. "Course I am. Eventually."

They laughed.

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"This is fantastic!" Lister gushed as they out of the landing bay. "We'll be able to stay up late, watch old reruns of Zero-G Football together, eat curries…"

"We don't like curries," Jim told him.

"And we don't like Zero-G Football," Bexley added.

"What?" Lister stopped dead in his tracks. "B-but I named you after Jim-Bexley Speed, the greatest Zero-Gravity Football player who ever lived! Don't tell me you don't like him, either."

"We like Zero-Gravity Racquetball," Jim told him.

"It's completely _zapped_," Bexley said.

"_Zapped_?" Lister repeated, looking to Kryten, who shrugged helplessly. "What the smeg is that?"

"Don't be so analog, Dad," Bexley said disapprovingly.

"Yeah, you need to upgrade your software," Jim agreed. They walked off.

Lister was dumbfounded. "What the smeg just happened?"

"Oh, they seem delightful, sir," Kryten said, delighted. "I can't wait to get to know them, better."

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Later, in the mess hall, Rimmer regaled the twins with tales of his noble adventures as acting senior officer of _Red Dwarf _while Jim and Bexley munched on burgers and chips, pointedly trying to ignore him.

"… and that's when I realized that if I didn't do something, my crew was going to die," Rimmer went on. "Bravely, I ventured into the cargo bay, with nothing but a bazookoid and my wits to protect me."

"That's funny," Bexley snorted. "On our ship, Rimmer wanted to attack the polymorph with a letter-writing campaign."

"Yes… well…" Rimmer struggled. "That's because your Rimmer is a girl."

Bexley snorted again and laughed out loud. Kryten came in and set two glasses of milk down in front of the boys.

"Can I get you anything else?" He asked.

"No thanks, Kryten," Jim said.

"Would it be all right if I asked you a question, young sirs?" Kryten said, sitting down.

"Sure."

"I was wondering, is there a Kryten on board your ship?"

"No, we haven't got a mechanoid," Bexley said. "Just us and the others."

Jim, bored, picked up the guitar he'd stowed under the table and began tuning it just as Lister came in.

"Hey, that's mine," Lister hurried over and snatched the guitar away. "You can't just go into my quarters and snatch me guitar. This is a genuine Les Paul copy. It's very valuable."

"Sorry, Dad," Jim shrugged.

"Hey, you wanna hear your old man strum out a few chords?" Lister asked.

Before they could answer, he began playing. Terribly. Rimmer, used to this, simply sighed and put his hands over his ears. The twins made faces and did the same. The cat came into the room, marched up to Lister, removed his hat, and slapped him with it.

"Shut up!" The Cat yelled. He dropped the hat and pulled out a bottle of hand sanitizer, using a liberal amount to cleanse his hands.

"Okay, Cat, geez," Lister muttered, picking his hat up off the floor and putting it back on. "I was just showing me boys what a guitar god I am."

"I think my ears are bleeding," Bexley groaned and nodded to his brother. "Jim."

Jim took the guitar back and played it expertly.

Rimmer slowly lowered his hands, gaping at him in disbelief. "Wow, I guess being a gimboid skips a generation."

Lister nodded, clearly jealous and trying to hide it. "That wasn't bad. You've got some talent there, kid."

"Talent?" The Cat repeated. "He's incredible! I didn't know a guitar could be used to make music. I thought it was just used to peel paint off of the walls."

"Oh, but it's most useful whenever we need to repaint the corridors," Kryten added, trying to be helpful. "Why, without Mr. Lister's help, we'd have to chisel away at the walls for hours."

Lister deflated, then perked up a little. "Say, how would you boys like to go down to the cinema and watch _McLintock!_ with me and the skutters?"

"We had the John Wayne Movie Fest on our ship _last _month," Bexley said, rolling his eyes. "John Wayne is so _analog_."

"We're going to finish unpacking, now," Jim announced. The twins left.

Lister sank into one of the empty seats. "What's going on? They don't like curries, they don't like Zero-G Football…"

"They can play guitar," Cat added.

"… and they think I'm a total gimboid," Lister went on. "I don't understand what happened. Their mother must have done something to them."

"They're teenagers," Rimmer reminded him. "All parents are total gimboids to teenagers."

"Try not to worry, Mr. Lister, sir," Kryten added, patting him on the back. "They haven't even been here a day. They're still getting used to everything. Think how strange it must be for them."

"Yeah," The Cat agreed. "If I saw you and knew you were my father, I'd never be the same, afterwards."

"You know, Kryten, you're right," Lister said with certainty. "We've got the whole weekend to get to know each other. They'll warm up to me."


	3. Chapter 3: A Drunk Petting Zoo

**Disclaimer: I do not own Red Dwarf or any of its characters. In fact, I don't own any dwarves of any color. That would just be wrong.**

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Kryten waited patiently for the twins to get up the next day. To his amazement, they got out of bed before Lister did, at half eleven. After serving them brunch (eggs and tomato ketchup for Bexley, Super Sugar Puffs cereal with chocolate milk and extra sugar for Jim), he ventured into their room to make their beds and stopped dead in his tracks.

Clothes were strewn all over the floor. The beds looked as though sweaty pigs had wrestled in them. Jim's pillow had a huge stain on it that appeared to be (hopefully) drool. Another mysterious stain, this one orange, was on the ceiling. A plate with bread crusts sat in the middle of the floor. Somehow, it had already grown fuzzy, gray mold on it. Kryten gazed around the room for a good thirty seconds, mouth agape.

"Unbelievable!" He said to himself. "They haven't even been here twenty four hours, yet, and their room is already worse than Mr. Lister's…. I think I've died and gone to silicon heaven!"

Whistling a cheerful tune, Kryten set about cleaning the room up. He couldn't be happier.

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The Cat was on his way to his room for his third nap of the day when he noticed the door was open and voices were coming from inside.

"… and this one, too."

"Oh, that is so _zapped_!"

The Cat crept up to the door quietly and sprang inside, startling the twins. They were standing by the open closet and Bexley was holding the blue button-down shirt with glittering faux gemstones that the Cat had planned on wearing tomorrow. Irate, he arched his back and hissed at them to let them know he meant business.

The twins looked at each other, nonplussed.

The Cat arched his back further and sprang at them sideways, clawing at the air to threaten them, but they still just stared at him, confused. The Cat dropped his act in annoyance and said "What the hell are you monkeys doing in my closet? You'll contaminate the clothes I have picked out for this week and I'll have to go get another collection from the cargo bay."

"This is just for the week?" Jim puzzled, gazing into the huge, walk-in closet.

Bexley held up the blue shirt. "I _have_ to know where you got this shirt. This is _sooo zapped_."

The Cat smiled and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle out of his sleeve. "Zapped, huh? You really think so?" To himself, he thought _That means "good", right?_

"I love your shirts," Bexley gushed. "The colors and the textures…. Say, could we go to the cargo bay and see what else you have?"

The Cat's chest puffed with pride. "Well, I don't know. I don't usually let people paw through my clothes. Oh, what the hell. Let's go!"

The twins followed him eagerly.

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"Where the smeg are they?" Lister grumbled, pacing in the corridor outside of their sleeping quarters. "We were supposed to go play some Zero-Gravity Racquetball together over an hour ago."

"You don't even like racquetball," Rimmer pointed out.

"I know that, but they're me sons," Lister said. "We've only got a few days together, and we're supposed to do, y'know, father-son things together."

"They don't even like father-son things," Rimmer pointed out.

"I have to try, don't I?"

"Lister, they're so inbred, they probably don't know how to have a normal father-son relationship," Rimmer said. "They're probably waiting for you to introduce them to an aunt so they can go out on a date."

"Rimmer, shut up," Lister snapped. The Cat cruised by and Lister said to him, "Hey, Cat, have you seen Jim and Bexley anywhere?"

"Who?" The Cat asked.

"Me sons," He cried, frustrated. "Where are they?"

The Cat shrugged. "I don't know. Probably still sleeping off the case of beer they split."

"_WHAT?!_" Lister took off. The Cat and Rimmer exchanged looks and quickly followed him. Lister ran over to the twins' sleeping quarters and stopped dead in his tracks. Bexley was on the floor with his feet propped up on his bunk. A comically oversized red fedora covered his face and he was snoring loudly. Jim was sitting on the top bunk picking pepperoni off of a slice of pizza and flicking them at his brother, trying to get them to land on the fedora, but he kept missing. In addition to the pepperoni, the floor was also littered with empty beer cans, pizza crusts, dirty socks, muddy boots, (_How_, Rimmer wondered, _could their boots be muddy on a space station? Or is that even mud?_ He shuddered.) and an overflowing ashtray with a pickle sticking out of it.

"Oh, _smeg_," Lister groaned.

"It smells like a drunk petting zoo in here," Rimmer wrinkled his nose.

Bexley stirred and peeled the fedora off of his face to see what was going on, smacking his lips. His eyes were bloodshot and there was a huge puddle of drool on his shirt. At that moment, Kryten came in and peered into the room.

"Good heavens!" Kryten exclaimed. "It hasn't even been eight hours since I last cleaned this room. These kids are going to spoil me rotten!"

Jim snapped his fingers, gesturing wildly. Bexley looked up slowly and handed his brother the fedora, which Jim promptly puked in. The Cat pulled out an embroidered handkerchief to cover his nose with.

Rimmer didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Lister, I hate to admit it, but I think we've finally discovered a more disgusting life form than you."

"I can't believe you've done this!" Lister shook his head at the boys. "You're too young to get pissed. And smoking! I can't _believe _you're smoking. What's wrong with you?"

"We're nineteen," Bexley said.

"No, you're not, you're a year and a half," Lister shouted. "You're way too young to be doing… You know what, that's it," He said with finality. "I can't deal with this any more. I'm sending you back to your mum." He stalked off.

"Well, I'd better go get the cleaning supplies," Kryten said happily, following him.


	4. Chapter 4: A Good Example

**Author's note: **Here it is, the final chapter of my first fan fiction story. I hope it's been tolerable. I promise to make the next one better. Well, I promise to try. Okay, I promise to be sober when I write the rough draft. No more NyQuil for me!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Red Dwarf or any of it's characters. But if you'd like to purchase a star and name it after me, that would be totally cool with me.**

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"Don't you think you're overreacting a little?" Deb asked from the view screen.

"No, I don't," Lister said stubbornly. "They're out of control. They don't respect me. They don't want to have anything to do with me unless it's stealing me beer and me cigarettes. Which, by the way, they must have gotten from _you_."

"Oh, really?" Deb crossed her arms. "I'll have you know that I haven't touched a single beer or smoked a single cigarette since you dropped them off, over a year ago."

"I-" Lister began to argue, but stopped. "What?"

"That's right," She nodded. "Not a drop. Not a single puff. I did it for them."

Lister was speechless.

"Have you even thought about how hard this has been on me?" She went on. "I don't have any experience raising children. Suddenly, you pop in and say 'sorry, I can't raise them or they'll die in a week' and kick them through the airlock faster than I can say 'chicken vindaloo'. Raising two kids by yourself is no picnic, not to mention the fact that they were instant teenagers."

"Oh, hey," Lister said quietly. "I feel really bad, now."

"I love the boys. I really do," Deb said quietly. "But I need a break. And they need a father. Not a _friend_, Dave. A _father._ So get crackin'. And good luck."

The view screen switched off. Lister sat back in his chair and let out a breath, slowly. _She's right. I still drink and smoke. I haven't done anything to take responsibility. I just expected them to pal around with me._

In the corridor, he could hear someone whistling. A moment later, Rimmer came in, strutting.

"Shall I have Kryten pack their bags now, or wait until morning?" Rimmer asked, grinning.

"They're staying here," Lister told him.

"What?" Rimmer drew himself up. "But they're total goits, and they blatantly disrespect me in front of the crew. As acting senior officer onboard this ship, I command you to-"

"Rimmer, they're me _sons_," Lister interrupted. "You can't order me throw them off the ship. Besides, the crew disrespects you in front of the crew."

He changed tactics "What happened? I thought you didn't want them here any more."

"I've got to take more responsibility," Lister explained. "I've got to act like a real dad to them. They deserve it."

Rimmer got a suspicious look on his face. "Did she hypnotize you?"

"I'm serious, Rimmer."

His eyes got wide. "She's _blackmailing_ you? That's incredible. How do you blackmail someone when it's common knowledge that their family tree goes in a circle? What could possibly be worse than that?"

Lister rolled his eyes and walked away.

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"But, _sir_!" Kryten protested. "I don't understand why _I'm_ being punished."

"You're not being punished, Kryten, they are," Lister explained again. "If they clean up after themselves, they will learn to take responsibility for their actions."

"But – but…" Kryten stammered.

"It's only temporary, Kryten," Lister assured him. "I promise things will go back to normal when they leave."

The mechanoid sputtered and twitched, then finally sighed. "Oh, very well, sir. I understand."

Lister smiled and patted him on the back, then stepped into the twins' room. Jim and Bexley were still passed out, and the room was still a wreck. Lister set one of the beer cans upright and stomped it flat with his boot. The noise made the twins jump, then groan in pain.

"Rise and shine, boys," Lister said.

"What time is it?" Jim grumbled.

"Ten in the morning," Lister announced. "I wanted you to get an early start."

Bexley sat up, alarmed. "With what?"

"Your punishment," Lister told him, and presented them with a broom and dust pan.

"You can't be serious," Bexley said.

"Oh, yes I am. We're gonna make this room spotless before breakfast," Lister said smugly. "And after that, we're gonna wash the dishes."

"You have lost your mind," Jim laughed.

"What's this for?" Bexley demanded.

"For drinking and smoking," Lister replied. "It's wrong, and I won't have my sons doing it."

"You are full of complete and utter _smeg_!" Bexley raged. "_You_ drink and smoke. Where d'ya think we got it from?"

"Why d'ya think I said _we_?" Lister pulled a paper dust mask out of his pocket and put it on his face, snapping the elastic cord. "Ouch!"

Bexley opened his mouth, but stopped. "What?"

"I've been doing some thinking," Lister said, walking over and putting an arm around each kid. "And I've come to realize that I haven't been setting a good example for you guys. I've been trying to act like a friend, but what I should have been doing was acting like a father. I'd like to start over, try again. If you'll let me."

Jim gave him a knowing look. "You've been talking to Mum, haven't you?"

"Hey, give me a little credit," Lister complained through the dust mask. "I can clean up me act without any say so from her."

The twins crossed their arms simultaneously.

Lister deflated. "Yes, I spoke to Deb."

"Ha!" Jim said.

"All right, all right," Lister handed him the broom. "Let's get started, then."

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_The next day…_

_Starbug_'s door opened and Deb Lister came out, smiling broadly. "Hey, boys! Come here and give me a hug. I missed you."

Jim and Bexley went over and hugged her. Not eagerly, but not with hesitation. Lister, Rimmer, the Cat and Kryten watched the reunion. Kryten dabbed at his eyes with a hankie. The Cat fussed with his nails, looking bored.

"What's this?" She puzzled. "You actually happy to see me, too?"

"We missed you, too, Mum," Bexley said.

"Can we come back and visit Dad some time?" Jim asked.

"Well, I guess that's up to him," Deb said, raising a questioning eyebrow at her male counterpart.

"I'd love that," Lister said, giving them a genuine smile.

"Hm," Deb pondered that for a moment, then shrugged. "All right, then. Glad everything worked out."

"You boys take care," Lister said, giving them one last hug. "And don't forget to help yer mum out more often, since she doesn't have a Krytina around."

"We will," They chorused.

Jim, Bexley and Deb went back into _Starbug_. Lister and the others waved as they took off. Lister looked bittersweet.

"Why, Listie," Rimmer said, surprised. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you already missed the little smeggers."

Lister didn't respond. He watched until the shuttle was completely out of sight, then promptly pulled a can of lager and a cigarette out of his pocket. He lit the cigarette, cracked open the can of lager and drank from it, cigarette still dangling from the corner of his mouth. Somehow, the cigarette stayed lit, which required a lot of talent. Beer dribbled off of his chin and all over his shirt. The can was empty before he came up for breath. "_Ahhhh_…."

"You really are despicable," The Cat said, wrinkling his nose. "You weren't serious about setting a good example. You were just waiting until they left."

"Wow!" Kryten said, amazed. "I don't know how you do it, sir. Lying to your own children. How I envy your abilities!"

"Hey, I had to set a good example for them," Lister argued. "I've done that, and how it's _her_ turn to set the good example, again. There's no sense in letting perfectly good lager go to waste when there's a John Wayne Movie Fest to attend."

Rimmer shook his head. "Lister, you're about as mature as fart jokes at a funeral."

"At least he's consistent," The Cat said.

"Come on, guys," Lister said, pulling out another beer. "Let's go watch _The Green Berets_."

END


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